Mistletoe
by Mestizaa
Summary: They'll blame it on the mistletoe. Jimmy/Mrs Hughes.


**A/N: **I feel too weird about this to go over it for anachronisms and typos.

* * *

><p>Jimmy doesn't pretend to understand Mrs Hughes, but that doesn't mean that doesn't find her intriguing. She's always so poised, so sure of herself. There is a reason why her maids (and the footmen and hallboys) scurry away when they hear her keys jingling on her hip. Mrs Hughes terrifies him. It's the kind of terror that stems from a tremendous amount of respect and the subsequent fear of disappointment. At first glance, she is simply Downton's stern housekeeper, but the more he learns about her, the more he realizes that it's a mask. The glimpses he's caught have thrown him completely off guard. A snarky comment here, a pointed look to Mr Carson there. An amused smirk hidden behind a cup of tea.<p>

He wonders if she was always so guarded or it was a necessity once she became housekeeper.

"How do you suppose Mrs Hughes was like when she was younger?" he muses in the kitchen. Daisy and Ivy are working away at preparing the lunch trays, while Alfred looms over the door frame.

"I don't know," replies Ivy.

"She'd have been incredibly hard working," Alfred says decisively. "There's a reason why she's housekeeper."

"Do you suppose she ever had a suitor?" Ivy sighs. "Ever fallen in love? Gotten her heart broken?"

"Of course she has," Daisy rolls her eyes. "She's not heartless, you know."

Jimmy tilts his head in interest. Daisy would know; he always forgets that she's been at Downton longer than most. "What do you mean by that, Daisy?"

Sensing that she wasn't going to get any work done until told her story, Daisy wipes her hands on her apron. "A few years ago, Mrs Hughes had a suitor." Three sets of curious eyes plead for more. "He was a farmer, I think. I remember seeing them at a carnival together."

"And?" probes Ivy.

"That's it. He went away, and never came back."

Jimmy opens his mouth to ask for more because there must be more to this story. But before he could say the words, Mrs Patmore comes barreling in.

"Well, what are you doing just standing there?" she waves at the footmen. "Lunch isn't going to serve itself!"

Jimmy has always found Mrs Patmore to be terrifying, but he knows that her bark is worse than her bite.

But he's not going to stick around to see if he's right.

-o-o-o-o-

Hanging up mistletoe under every door downstairs is both the best and the worst idea Jimmy has ever had. He can imagine the tongue lashing Mr Carson would give him if he's caught. But Mr Carson's look of utter indignation and the promise of chaos downstairs is worth the risk. Besides, a little bit of fun is hardly the grounds for dismissal.

He finishes hanging the last mistletoe under the the doorway of the Servant's Hall and takes a step back to admire his handiwork.

"James!"

His stomach somersault's at the housekeeper's voice and silently prays that she hasn't seen the mistletoe.

"Why are you still awake?" she asks as she walks towards him. "I thought everybody had turned in already."

So had he. He had been_ certain _everybody was in bed. She's looking so inquisitively at him, and he can't do anything but tell her a version of the truth. "I had something I wanted to get done."

She raises an eyebrow in what can only be described as amusement. "I'll have to tell Mr Carson about your initiative."

The looming sense of panic is returning. She_ knows_. There is no possible way that she doesn't.

"What have we here?" she looks up at the green sprig. "James, is that what I think it is?"

He swallows and tries to come up with a plausible explanation. "Maybe."

"And I'm sure you have nothing to do with it?" she purses her lips. "And I'm sure all the other mistletoe was somebody else."

The overwhelming sense of panic opened the flood gates. "I'm sorry, Mrs Hughes. I promise I'll take them all down!"

"Jimmy, that won't be necessary."

He blinks, tries to process her statement. "I don't understand."

"There's nothing wrong with a bit of harmless fun," she pauses, and considers her words. "As long as it stays that way."

He nods. "Of course."

"Now I do believe we're under mistletoe, James," she glances at the plant hanging over their heads.

Jimmy takes a breath, tries to calm his rapid heart. "Oh?"

"I'm only teasing," she laughs. "As long as you don't do anything foolish tomorrow, I'll feign ignorance when Mr Carson starts his crusade."

He relaxes and lets his shoulders drop. "Thank you, Mrs Hughes."

She smiles and starts to turn away. He doesn't know what makes him do it. Maybe it's how he's discovered how utterly fascinating she is. How she never reacts how he expects she will. It's temporary insanity- it must be. There is no other explanation.

"Mrs Hughes," he calls out to her, and she waits expectantly. "If we don't kiss, we'll be cursed with bad luck."

She raises her eyebrows. "Will we?"

He nods, licks his lips. "That's what happens. The spirit of Christmas will haunt you."

She bites her lip, tries not to laugh. "Oh alright."

Jimmy takes a step towards her, and kisses her cheek. He feels the breath she had been holding shudder. He should leave it at that. Lines have been crossed. He should bid her goodnight, should head to his room and turn in because he has to be up in just a few short hours.

Instead, he leans down again and places a small kiss on her lips. She gasps sharply in shock. He pulls away, expects a slap, or brutal talking-to. Definitely not a the confused woman in front of him.

"What was that for?" she bites her lip self-consciously. Jimmy wonders when the last time somebody kissed her.

He shrugs. "Mistletoe."

Not on the fact that he's absolutely fascinated by her. Not the fact that he just wanted to see how she'd react.

She frowns. "That is exactly the kind of behaviour that will get you in trouble tomorrow."

"I know," he takes a breath. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

She considers this and takes a step back. "You should go to bed now," she says softly.

"Mrs Hughes?" he calls again. "You know, if I were older, or you younger -"

Mrs Hughes raises a hand to interrupt him. "We'll blame it on the mistletoe."

Realization dawns on him. She's giving him an out and he's oh so thankful that he hasn't been sacked for his stupidity.

"Besides," she pauses, seems to be mulling something over, "nobody will believe you if you tell them."

She turns on her heel and heads down the corridor without another word. And he's left standing there wondering if he imagined it all.

Fin.

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:** This was inspired by PL's comment about hooking up with Jimmy. I feel suuuper weird about it. Thoughts?


End file.
